Found me
by Ivychankasumi
Summary: In a world where just a few can meet their soulmates, and whit that, win the color vision, Edward Nygma never tough he will be one of the lucky ones. Sadly, his other half didn't think the same, and he ran away before Ed could even hear his full name. Now, Ed should use every resource he can as a GCPD worker to find the man who stole his hearth. Soumate color Au. One-shot


Hey! It's me again! It has been rough exam weaks for me, but I managed to write something. A little clumsy, maybe, but I do love baby Nygma from season 01!

I hope you like this oneshot, also, English is not my first language, so, apologies in advance for any grammar mistake!

Disclaimer: Gotham is owned by Fox, Warner Brothers TV and Detective Comics.

* * *

 **November 12**

If something was boring to Ed, it was when the cases were just plain street murders, or score-settlings by the mafia. There was no background, there was no essence. A few looks into the scene and it was obvious what had happened. That's why he liked to work with Jim Gordon. He always took those difficult cases that the precinct wanted to put aside, or lie to finish fast and take that weight off his shoulders. Unfortunately, that man with the balloons didn't give him any opportunity to get involved.

So there he was, on a wednesday night, walking home. It was around 25 minutes far from his job, so he didn't need to use his car. In fact, when was the last time he had driven it? He didn't go anywhere; he preferred to lose himself with his own nonsense in his apartment. But at least, he had something entertaining for boring days.

A few blocks before arriving at his apartment, there was a cafeteria that could be said to meet his standards. Taste, hygiene ... and budget. The pay wasn't as good as he would want in the GCPD. As soon as he entered, while watching the menu displayed above the bar, the employees rolled their eyes when they recognized him. Ed had a game with that place. Whenever he went, he asked for a new dish. He was interested in knowing all of them, and thus judging them. It seemed to him that he cooked much better than all of them, but it was good to make sure.

Having already gone through the burgers and sweet desserts, he found himself in the middle of the club sandwich. The cashier wanted to smile, but Nygma always made it difficult for others. – Can I take your order?

– I can be yellow and not be sick; I can have holes and not be dead. What am I? – The girl struggled with the desire to roll her eyes. It was always the same with this man.

– Can I take your order? – She repeated, tired, with the tone rude enough for Ed to draw a grimace.

– The cheese special, please. – It was just a riddle, for God's sake.

He didn't want to make more drama after paying; he simply sat near one of the windows and took out his agenda, waiting.

Right, he couldn't tell Miss Kristen about his feelings, again ... He ticked off a couple of ideas he had written down, and scratched slightly behind his ear when he thought about new ones. Love in this world was worth of curiosity, in his opinion. Most had to battle with this kind of thing. Find someone suitable, fall in love slowly, make someone fall in love with you ... Even people like him, who stumbled on the thick wall of rejection. He knew he was a mockery to her, he just liked to deny it so he wouldn't give up.

It must be great for those few who could found their soulmate. Not only because at that moment they would have their life partner, someone to love and to be loved by them unconditionally, but because they acquired that wonderful ability... To observe the colors.

In cities like Gotham, the gray and black colors made the days passing by more depressing ... What would the blue of the sky look like? The green of the forests? The red of a rose?

Actually... What were those colors even like? What did it feel to be able to recognize one among them? Even in professions such as his, those who could recognize colors were much more valued ... Surely it would make things easier for him ... and he could learn even more.

What an ideal world. Colors. Learning. And someone to love.

It was a pity that he and Kristen weren't that compatible. At least she hadn't found her soulmate either. It was a bad thing to wish, he supposed, but as long as nobody listened to him, he didn't care much either.

– Here you go. – The monotonous voice of the worker took him out of his thoughts. Oh, yes, his sandwich. While taking the bag, he tried to be nice again, as he looked at him with a smile.

Wow ... Had the time stopped? Or ... it may have been just Nygma's. He couldn't move as the gray eyes of the other collided with his. No ... they weren't gray ... they were, they were ... something else ... there was another soft tone there. And another one in his skin, in the small freckles that ran down the waiter's face. As he half–opened his lips, the world around him brightened rapidly, but he couldn't take his eyes off that face, as surprised as he was, as mute as he was.

They spent long seconds like that, he had no idea if someone was watching or not, but he felt the chest heavy, and ... hot ... He felt a huge joy that he couldn't define, as if there were no words for it ... Finally, he gathered what little he had left of consciousness to articulate. – Y–you ... – but that sound was enough for the other man to react.

To Nygma's surprise, the boy walked away quickly, but Edward was quick to react and chase him. – Hey, wait! – But he didn't seem to pay any attention to him. Between the overwhelm and the confusion, Edward crossed the line a little, taking the arm of that man by force, holding him by his side, igniting the alarms on the faces of the other employees. – Wait!

– Let me go, my turn is over. – He was frowning, but he noticed in his face how confused he was, like him. But, why the anger...?

– A–at least, your name–– – He couldn't even articulate a question. With sharp eyes, he got a dry response.

– Paolo.

What a cold tone, Edward thought. He let him go, watching him go into the kitchen. Of course he had planned to follow him, but the other employees got in his way.

– You can't go inside, sir, it's a restricted area.

– But, I— ... – It wasn't even worth explaining. He could see distrust in their eyes, and annoyance. Well, he was strange for them, and his behavior right now ... If he chose his actions wrong, maybe he would be thrown out.

He took one last look at the gray doors that separated him from that man ... and decided to return to the table for his things, observing all around, curious, fascinated ... But it didn't end there.

While he was leaving the cafeteria, for its own sake, the world looked completely different. The lights, the signs, the traffic lights, the clothes ... Even his hands, his coat, his own shoes. He didn't understand it, but he wanted to, and he wanted to know what was happening! Although deep down he knew it...

He clung to his bag, and to the sandwich that sincerely, he cared little. All hunger had vanished. He leaned on a post near the place and waited patiently to meet ... Paolo. He was dying to go home to discover about this colorful new world. But what he wanted even more was to know about this man ... that pale little man, with a strange hairdo and enigmatic eyes. A smile appeared on Edward's excited lips.

His soulmate ... His soulmate!

* * *

 **December 3**

Almost a month had passed, and unfortunately, He hadn't seen that small man again. The employees scared him a little, specially by the glare each one of them gave him every time he asked for that man, so on the third day he decided to wait outside again, until he left his shift or something like that ... But he never appeared again. It wasn't until two weeks later that one of the waitresses felt pity – or tired, who knows – of him and had to be honest. The day they met, that boy had resigned. He didn't say where he was going, or why he was leaving. They just didn't see him again.

The last week had been a bit confusing for the same reason. He continued to satisfy his curiosity and knowledge with the details he had learned from this colorful world. The blonde and chestnut hair, the new neon lights, and the beautiful sunset from the window of his apartment. He even took a liking for the green color. It was a scale of gray that he liked; it was a surprise that he had many things of those shades.

But in spite of that, He also felt some confusion and sadness because of Paolo's attitude. Why had he fled from him that day? And why did he resign? It was pretty obvious he was hiding, but why? They were soulmates. Out of so many people, they had met ... It couldn't be his fault! They hadn't even known each other well enough to tell him he was nasty and weird! But things didn't work that way, supposedly...

He wasn't saying that he felt madly in love with him just because they had exchanged three sentences, but ... Didn't he feel that pressure in his chest? That fervent desire to see each other again. To ask who he was, from where ... To observe the eyes that he now understood were gray with a blue touch of light and thin ... Ed smiled like a fool when he remembered them.

– Ed. – Jim Gordon's ambiguous morning greeting. But it was a greeting, at least. He hurried to answer with a long and playful smile, as always.

– Good morning, detective. – Gordon continued his way to his desk. At least he tried. Every step he took, Nygma followed him in silence, practically invading his personal space.

– ...Yes? –

– Mmm? – Ed didn't understand the question, at least until he noticed how close he was. – Oh yeah. Detective. I know you just went through quite a bit because of the Viper yesterday, but ... – He adjusted his glasses, as a reflection of the nerves he felt. They were friends, right? He had the right to ask for a favor sometime ... – I was wondering if you could help me with an investigation. It's something ... more personal. – He didn't want to look like a stalker, clearly he wasn't, or so he expected, but things would certainly speed up if he consulted someone like him.

– Sure. What do you need, Ed? – He reached his desk, but didn't take a seat, he paid attention.

– See, I ... I need to find a person. It's ... – He had no words to say it, his face was excited, cheerful, and he let out that weird old laugh. Harvey didn't know what he was talking about, but he sighed wearily on the continuous desk. – It's extraordinary, detective, I assure you. The best thing that has happened to me. I can't remember something that–

– Ed. – He had to interrupt. To the point. They were still at work.

– Yeah. I, uhm ... I found my soul mate! – This time he got the full attention of the officers.

– That's great. Ed. Congratulations. He patted his shoulder, with a sincere smile, something short. Nygma adjusted her glasses, also proud.

– Thank you, Detective. But ... I have a problem with that. – And it was pretty obvious what it would be. – You see ... I met him in a coffee shop the other day, but, we didn't get to specify any contact information; I barely know his name, I've been looking for him in the area where we met, but I haven't had any luck.

– Did you look in the archives? If there is someone with that name...

– Well, I only know his first name, Paolo, but there aren't many registered in the base, so, I was reviewing one by one but ... – He shrugged his shoulders, defeated. – There are only two possibilities. Either he isn't from Gotham, or he lied to me. And because of that first meeting ... it's quite possible that he lied to me.

– Wow Nygma. You met your soul mate and even he flees from you. – Harvey seemed a bit annoyed by the subject, but Ed tried not to pay too much attention.

– Well, I guess there's not much official procedure I can offer, but I can let you know if I find something about it. Can you give me a detailed description? Or at least something special that you have noticed? – If they had only met once, Jim found it almost impossible to find him.

– Now that you mention it, actually, he was quite particular. – That's why he was sure he didn't run down the cafeteria area without him noticing. – His eyes are ... gray, well–– – Edward laughed a little, in slight mockery, but unintentionally. If he told them that they were blue, they wouldn't understand. – He is short. He has a prominent nose, very prominent ... A bit crazy dark hair, many freckles ... – While advancing in his description, Jim and Harvey exchanged a look. They prayed that they were wrong. – Oh! And he seemed to have an ankle injury or something like that. He limped while walking.

Damn it. Harvey watched Jim in dismay. Jim returned the gesture, a little more frightened.

– Yes, it's a ... peculiar description. – He faked a smile as best he could, for the simple and simple fact that ... it was him. That man they all thought was dead, but he knew he was still alive under Maroni's hands.

Oswald Cobblepot was Ed's soul mate.

– We will do what we can. – The conversation was cut by Bullock, trying to debunk the issue. – Now, don't you have another case to attend today?

– What? Oh ... Oh, yes. – He knew they were throwing him out of their space, but it didn't bother him. They agreed to help him. – Good day, detectives. –

Ed went down to the lab, calmer. He didn't hear any of the whispers of pity the Irishman addressed to his partner. Nor did he notice Gordon's worried expression.

* * *

 **January 20**

He still had an annoying grin on his lips. He needed to prove to that shoddy forensic man why he didn't have to be so intolerant. His presence didn't hurt a single fly. Everything that was in there had been dead for hours, anyway.

His analysis was wrong. As usual. Also, he had a good memory, and this sounded too much like something he had seen before. Although, he didn't remember exactly what it was.

– Good morning Miss Kringle. – The brunette almost dropped the phone in his hands when he entered so silently. Ed only gave him a wide and curious smile.

– Yes, sir, I'll do that. – She ignored the forensic for a second, while her superior cut the call and could finally frown. – What do you need, Mr Nygma?

– I came to look for some files ~ – It was more like an announcement, something childish. He moved away from her to open one of the lower drawers and start looking. He remembered a name similar to Ner ... Ner–something.

– Again? – She couldn't do anything to throw him out of the file, if he wasn't clear about what he was looking for, she couldn't help him.

– Oh, no, no. It's not about that, no. The captain says that I can only look for personal things when I don't have accumulated cases. – Which was a little weird, knowing Gotham, but he always found the time. – It's about a case, for Detective Gordon.

– I get it. – They remained silent for a couple of minutes ... And yes. For Kristen it felt like an eternity. It was also a weird feeling. It had already been a couple of months after short and eventful encounters, or uncomfortable and exasperating work hours, since Nygma had stopped being a kind of creepy stalker. The disgusting gifts and the riddles without meaning had stopped appearing on her desk, and that relieved her.

But it was weird to meet this man. He was like a different person ... He still gave her a couple of scares, she wouldn't deny it, but now he just seemed like a very peculiar colleague. The "annoying" label had disappeared.

– I heard you had a few troubled days. – Edward was absent during the bad arrest of Jim Gordon and the appearance of Zsasz in the precinct. – I bet it was fun.

– It was anything but fun, Mr. Nygma. – Ah. There was his weird side again. – A big uproar was made by a man who wasn't dead in the end, and the next day there were ... shots everywhere. It was scary. –

Ed still sounded curious. It was a pity not to have been here. He took those days free of "Color apdatation" to which he was supposedly entitled, which was silly, because it wasn't a disease, it was a beautiful gift ... but what would all those people in grayscale know. He tried to look for him in crowded places of the city, but found no traces. He didn't have a picture, or a name, he just had a vague description. Asking others wasn't exactly an option.

– It's good to see Detective Gordon still with us– he added. He didn't want to scare the archivist, she seemed still shocked. He was glad to find one of the files, voila ~ He knew. And like this one, there should be another one kept somewhere. Nygma didn't realize that the minutes were passing, and Kringle's box was now empty.

– ... Any advance in that man you are looking for? – This time it was her who broke the silence. It gave her some curiosity. It had to be something serious if he could stop what she couldn't in a year and a half, although she pitied the little man. Now he would be the one to have Nygma on top of him all the time.

– Nope I try to work on that ... – He let out a weeks passed by, the anxiety to find him immediately started decreasing, but his curiosity increased. He began to sense that maybe he would find something more than a boy serving in a cafeteria. – It's hard, but it's destiny, so ~

– And how are you so sure it is destiny? – She doubted. He understood it in a certain way. Kristen didn't have much luck with her suitors. – Many men constantly claim that it is fate, but they always end up doing something foolish. – She didn't care if Edward felt included in her claim.

– It's destiny, because now I can see the world in a different way. Literally. – He let out a laugh, adjusting his glasses. – Besides, he must be here in Gotham. Despite the levels of crime, the population doesn't decrease; it is not common for someone to leave the city. And I don't know, maybe he's also looking for me...

– You have high hopes. – For the first time they spoke like civilized people, but she seemed with another subject in mind.

– ... Miss Kringle, did something happen with Detective Flass? – He knew about the relationship they had. He also knew what kind of imbecile gorilla he was. Although his love no longer belonged to Kristen, he cared a little about her. She was still a beautiful and wonderful woman, very capable. She just made bad decisions with her heart...

– Excuse me? – She seemed a little offended by the question. – Those are not matters that concern you, Mr. Nygma. – Oh, no ... he had made her angry again.

– I'm s–so–

– Of course you are sorry. – She interrupted. She wasn't in the mood, he understood, and he wasn't such a good company. She sat at her desk and this time, she opened the files she had to organize. Edward wanted to continue the conversation, to let her know that he would be there if she needed it ... But maybe she wouldn't listen to him ... He decided to just keep looking through so many folders for the bodies that were missing.

* * *

 **April 14**

– You're lucky I was in a crime scene because–– – He heard Bullock whisper as he climbed the stairs. He suddenly stopped, judging by Jim's face. Ed tought it was something weird, but he just smiled curiously, raising both eyebrows.

– What do you want now Ed? –

Oh, now the tone was quite different. It didn't concern him, he hoped. Although ... he was also at a crime scene the day before. Had he missed something important?

– It's already in the press ~ Apparently they made a last minute article ... – He left the box in his hands on a free desk and showed both of them the front page. – Ta–dah.

– The electrocutioner. Cute. No pressure.

– Don't worry. We'll get him.

– We got 17 hours to do so.

–I love the name. It's catchy. It has drama. The electrocutioner ... Speaking of which, given the modus operandi, may I suggest you both wear your galoshes while you're out in the field? – He held both pairs of boots. – In the event of electrical foot should be insulted.

– No mom, I'm not gonna wear my rubbers on the case.

– Nygma, give them here. – Harvey protested. Jim only raised his shoulders. Precaution was precaution.

– Uhm, detective. I know ... it's not exactly the time, but you are back from Arkham, or something like that, and you haven't told me for a long time if you have any clue ... – He cleared his throat, a little nervous. – The favor I asked for...

– Yes. I know, I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't have any free time in the asylum, right now I'm overwhelmed with the case ... – Jim was telling the truth. He was busy. But, why did it feel like there was something else there? Something he didn't want to tell him. – I promise you that when I solve this, I will continue looking for it.

It wasn't that he really had much hope, but he was just excited to think that he would have a clue. – Okay, detective. I understand it. – It wasn't his problem at the end ... – Then, it would be better if I continue with my activities. Good luck. – He left the box with the boots for Harvey. He may still change his mind.

As he descended the stairs, a new face jumped into his view. she caught his interest because she was looking directly for James Gordon's profile. That woman, with brown hair and nice attire, smiled in a strange way when she finally found him. Edward followed her path with his eyes, and he also noticed a change in the detective's face.

Interesting…

* * *

 **April 15**

He wasn't in a good mood. After Bullock's comment the previous day, obviously wanting to leave him out of the conversation, doubt had arisen in him. It intensified when, a little while later, the captain sent him to supervise a robbery scene. A robbery scene!? That wasn't his area! And when he called to give her the obvious clues, as she asked, she gave him the day off so that he could continue with that business he mentioned.

Obviously they were hiding something from him. He just wasn't sure of what it was, or why.

– So, you say that because they hide it from you, it should be because he's a criminal…? – It wasn't like Kristen could help him too much, but for a while here, she was the only one who seemed to tolerate his presence, to the point of wanting to listen to him.

– Yes, it would make sense, in many things. Like, they were trying to send me to other cases and suddenly something happens here, or that his name is not found in the database or any clue with his appearance ... He must move in a low profile, to go unnoticed...

– But you found him serving you a sandwich. I'm pretty sure criminals don't do that to us. – She closed the file cabinet and returned to her desk. Nygma watched her work, leaning on the gray furniture.

– I know. Also, there are no records about the incidents I have missed, and I have barely been told that they saw Maroni here. I know who Maroni is, and it's not Maroni. It must be someone who works for him ... Or against him.

– But again, you are stuck with the waiter's dilemma. – Well, she was right.

– Maybe he's a master of disguise ... – He approached the slender lady, moving her hands close to her face. – Like a magician! – She took them and pushed them away from her glasses.

– If he is, it is best to stay away. Maybe they want that. To protect you from a psychopath or something like that. That kind of person will do no good to anyone.

– I don't care.

– … Sorry? – Edward took the step that separated them, with his playful smile.

– Psychopath or not, that person is my soulmate. There must be something that connects us ... something that the mysteries of nature have agreed that we could share. – He took Kristen's shoulders, and she jumped slightly, dismayed by that expression and that grave tone. Even more for such words she had just listended. – I'll find him, no matter who he is...

– Nygma, you fucking creep, get away from her. – The male voice frightened both. They turned instinctively to the door, and it was Flass, with another band of detectives from his apartment. – What the hell are you doing?

Oh, maybe he was very close. – I–I'm sorry, Miss Kringle, I didn't notice that I––, I got a little excited about the subject and–

– You surrendered in your stupid fairytale search and you want my girl again? – Edward blinked a couple of times in confusion. First to Arnold and his companions, who laughed. Then to Kristen, who looked away ashamed.

– No ... It's not, I was just...

– Yes, Yes. Looking for your soulmate ~ What a drama. – He scoffed with that petulant and hateful smile he had. Sometimes, Nygma wanted to hit him so hard he could never smile again ... – If you were not so weird, I'd say you use it to get close to Kringle, but you are, and also, a very foolish guy. Why don't you go back to your poetic search and leave us alone? Or what, he also fled from you?

They kept laughing, but Edward only gave a disappointed look to Kristen ... Then, he went out with his head down.

– What a freak. – He listened as he closed the file door.

* * *

 **April 19**

Of course, good things couldn't happen to Edward Nygma often. After silently celebrating the arrest of Arnold Flass, he tried to continue with his work and think about how he could pressure Jim Gordon to give him the information he knew he was hiding. But Dr. Guerra had to get in his way.

He wasn't even allowed to make a report of the body check. He was sure he could contribute a lot to the case. After so many calls for attention, the suspension that he never thought to arrive finally came. It wasn't fair! It wasn't his fault that this pseudo doctor was an ignoramus who preferred to lie in his reports. Or maybe he was simply too stupid to differentiate between the obvious causes of death. That fool also had no perception of color, he had it! He could notice things that he couldn't!

Now everything was complicated. Not having a job meant not having an income. He did not know where to look for a job, He didn't have many options. Besides, being away from the precinct took any new clues about him from his gaze ... He couldn't ask James for clues, he couldn't check the database from time to time, the photos of the suspects. It would only be the sad and clumsy Edward Nygma, locked in his apartment.

At least he had someone to say goodbye to. He entered the file, without knocking, as always, and to his surprise, the desk was empty. He swore he had seen her come in a while before ... A slight sound was the one that encouraged him to look for her in the continuous corridor.

– Oh, Miss Kringle. I came to tell you that–– – When he could distinguish her face better, her swollen eyes and wet cheeks showed why she was hiding. – Were you crying?

She thought about getting up, but she didn't. She only dried what she could with the back of her hand. – No, I'm fine.

– But I see tears on your face ... Is it because they arrested your boyfriend Flass? – Kringle stopped and looked at him him.

– Is that what you came for? Have you come to mock? –

– What? No, no, no. Of course not! – He approached with a fast pace, moving his hands from side to side. – I would never do that, I'm just ... I'm worried.

– Sure, especially after what happened the other day ... – Oh, she was talking about the teasing...

– I'm not upset, not at all. I'm sure that mentioning it was an accident, and Flass's words aren't yours. I just ... I felt awkward about coming, after that... If I had known you were like this, I ... – He wasn't sure what he could do to improve the situation. The only thing that crossed his mind was looking in his pockets for a small package of tissues that his perfectionist being would carry everywhere. She hesitated a bit about taking them, but in the end she did.

– Thank you, Mr. Nygma ... – Even though she wasn't crying any more, or at least not in such an intense way, she used one to try to wipe her face. – I'm sorry, what were you coming to tell me? –

– Oh sure. I've been ... suspended. – It seems that she didn't expect the news either. – I got in trouble and I'll have to leave the precinct indefinitely...

– But, your research ... – She still had it in mind, it was a great detail.

– It's okay ... – Yes, He was upset. Yes, He was frustrated. But what could he do...? – I know this will further delay everything ... But, well ... if it's destiny, it has to happen someday, right? – Kristen didn't answer, but seemed to want to do it, lowering her eyes and squeezing the wet tissue.

– I don't understand how you still believe in that. I know it was different for you, what you saw, what you found ... But so many months have passed ... And nothing has changed. – He noticed that she not only spoke for his situation, but also hers ... – How is it that you still trust in that supposed destiny?

– … I don't know. – He recharged himself in the archivists, also turning his look between the lady and the ground. – I ... I really want to find him. Hope is all I have left ... I'll hold on to that as much as I can. – Kristen pulled another tissue, sighing, tired ... defeated.

– Do you know, Mr. Nygma? Sometimes I think we're just a couple of fools chasing something that doesn't exist. – Did she mean love? Probably ... That changed the frustration to sadness. Deep down, he knew that his soulmate was hiding. Maybe he didn't want to be near Nygma either. – Having faith ... You are an odd man, Mr. Nygma. But I'm sorry that you've been suspended. I wish something could be done.

He reasoned a bit, and finally a smile appeared. It was small one, and it started with an idea ... But it was a very good idea. Of course he could do something ... it went a little out of his standards, yes. But it was good, and it wouldn't deviate from his objective.

– Thank you, Miss Kringle. – Answered, with his mind in another place.

* * *

 **April 22**

– Spiking their fear by scaring them and then killing them in order to harvest hormones… – Ed nodded.

– How much of this stuff does he need? How many more people is he gonna kill?

– Oh. Of course, that's a good question. – He skimmed his investigation a little further. – Depends on how scared he is, I guess. What is he afraid of?

– In Scotties's phobia support group he said he was afraid of failure.

– Who isn't? It's gotta be something else. – He took the file from Ed's hands and flicked through it a little too as the forensic watched, while pressing his lips together. – Look at this ... Crane developed protocols for two inoculations. Himself and someone else. Subject B.

– Ooh! I wonder who that is. – He took the file again, analyzing the page marked by the detective. –

– It must be someone close to him. Or something related to his fear. – Harvey murmured, while passing one of Nygma's bottles near his face. It smelled funny, but Edward, alerted by his safety, approached to take it quickly, placing it in the desk.

– By the way, Detective Gordon ... – Jim already seemed to know what he would ask, so he put his hand over the bridge of his nose. He pretended to give a regretful face of oblivion, but he only seemed to show a slight concern about the matter. – Have you managed to find something?

– No, I'm sorry Ed. I ... Ah. – The problem was that he couldn't use the excuse that he could find someone better.

– Okay, no problem. I understand that there are reasons why you can't help me as I would like. – Although they were different from the ones he always exposed him, He was sure of that. – I still find it a fascinating subject. I think the more I learn from it, the faster I can find him.

– Do you think? – Jim smiled again, relieved by Ed's childish attitude.

– Mhm ~ This whole issue of the soulmates is so fascinating, you must understand me, since you are the new forensic's soulmate, isn't it? – The detective was shocked.

– How is that––?

– She told me.

– Of course she told you. – If she had kissed him in the middle of the precinct, she had definitely told his forensic partner.

– Isn't it spectacular? How such a special person can be so far and yet so close ... Meaning so much for one in such a short time. And all these colors that finding them gives us! It is extraordinary. – As he put his hands close to his chest, in excitement, he laughed. – And the probability of finding your soulmate is so low. Some people, only some, are those who manage to experience all this, those who manage to see love so clearly. Some people find their soul mate and–

– Everything you're saying is nonsense. – Bullock interrupted.

– ... And others clearly never did. –

– Do not provoke me, Nygma ... – Ed just made a regretful face, before Jim saved him by patting Harvey's shoulder.

– Don't waste energy, come on, we have to continue with the case. – And just as they entered, without really saying hello, they left Edward's small space. He watched the door for a long time, until he felt it was safe. As he predicted, bringing up the subject distracted the detectives enough to make them forget Crane's files.

He carefully took the things out of the box and obtained one of the yearbooks that they reviewed early. Between the paste and the pages there was a thick space with glue, a space that he took advantage of to insert a microphone that he had taken without permission from another area.

Yes, fine. It was illegal to spy others without an order, but after the incident with the ex–former medical examiner he noticed something very curious. Sometimes waiting and being nice doesn't pay off, light crimes like these, pranks for him, were what had given him back his job. Also, what could finally give him an answer...

As soon as he was able to place the audio properly to play, he made sure to check the hallway outside his door ... They wouldn't be back in a few minutes, he hoped. With his headphones on and a pen in hand, he wished he could grasp something this time...

He fast-forwarded past the night, when the book stayed still on Harvey's desk. Afterwards, some mumbles from the surroundings of the adjacent policemen, indicated that day had finally come. He stopped when in the end there was a talk among the detectives. Something common at the beginning ... But it changed once the new medical examiner formally presented herself to work.

 _"– It was good to see you again, Detective._

 _– It was really good to see you, doctor._

 _– ... You' have not luck at all, do you, brother?_

 _– What do you mean?_

 _– You find a fine lady like that, and she comes to work in the same building? It's a damn shame._

 _–Why?_

 _– Office romance always ends in tears. Tears I say._

 _– It's not gonna be like that._

 _– Trust me, I know. Hey, if it comforts you, it's not the worst case scenario._

 _– You paint it as if it were._

 _– No. You could be Nygma, something bad itself, and be chasing a sociopath._

 _– Harvey..._

 _– I am telling the truth. The guy doesn't give up, it's more than obvious that you're not going to tell him anything and he keeps pushing._

 _– You wouldn't?_

 _– Because of such nonsense? No way. Although, it's fun, don't you think? Edward Nygma and the penguin, love between freaks. I bet it sells good tickets._

 _– Forget it, Harvey."_

He paused the recording at that moment. Did he hear well? The Penguin? The Penguin!?

But of course! How could he have been so blind! He had heard from him, slightly, and now it was rumored that he would open his own club. Who rises so fast in the criminal world? No one! Besides, he was absent when James Gordon was almost indicted for his murder.

He kept the tape recorder in the pocket of his gray coat, with his hands shaking with emotion. He walked to the record. Kristen wasn't there, and it was better, he would rather not have questions and alarm someone by such a discovery. They hadn't blamed the penguin for any crime, but he could find information about him in the closed case against James Gordon by major crimes.

He didn't have to search too much. It was the third photo in the folder ... He was speechless. Yes ... The extravagant hairstyle, the gray eyes, that pale profile ... This man. It was him. Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot. He had to laugh, excited. This had opened so many possibilities. Now that he had his name, he just had to find a way to go to that club and talk to him. He had so many questions to ask, so many things to say. He was so excited.

He left the records with the folder in hand, ready to go back to the laboratory and finish his case. As soon as he had everything ready and in order, he would start a strategy ... Something elaborated. If he acted impulsively, maybe he would flee again ...

Or maybe he would do it right now.

After looking at the lower floor, Edward leaned on the wooden railing. It was almost impossible to be wrong. The man at the entrance of the GCPD was him.

– Oswald ... – He mumbled, observing that peculiar walk that sharpened his nickname. Who were he looking for? Jim? He moved a little closer to the stairs. Maybe it was his intense look or the closeness they had now, but this time he got the attention of Cobblepot.

In a somewhat amusing way, the expression of the gangster showed surprise, a lot. Then, he didn't expect to find him here. He didn't completely hide from him! Gordon hadn't told him they knew each other! With a natural look, he turned around and started walking. Wait, what? Would he run again?

Nygma took advantage of the amount of witnesses they had and also of the suspicions that could arise if someone like the penguin ran out of a harmless forensic in the middle of all that fuss. He was heading for the exit at a swift pace, but the injury on his foot made it impossible to flee at Edward's long stride. He watched him from time to time, wanting to elope. Ed didn't take his eyes off him.

They crossed roads a few meters from the precint door, and that was only because he stood in front of Cobblepot.

Right in front of him, and unable to make up a coherent excuse, he finally heard his voice, petulant and annoyed, unlike the last time.

– What? – What a demanding question.

– Where are you going? – Oswald pursed his lips, angered by such an answer.

– Obviously far from here. Step aside.

– Why do you want to get away from me?

– Why wouldn't I? I don't know you.

– Oh, you don't? – The mocking tone he used offended Oswald a bit. – Even if you say otherwise, you know me. Not as good as I would like, but that could change.

– I don't know you. – He tried to pass by, tired of that proud tone.

– Edward Nygma. – He introduced himself, again preventing him from moving forward. – And I know who you are.

– In that case you know you don't have any business with me.

– I cannot be bought, but I can be stolen with one glance. I'm worthless to one but priceless to two. What am I?

– …What? – He changed his gaze. He wasn't only annoyed, but also confused.

– Love, Mr. Penguin. – Oswald was silent. Maybe it was because of the confidence in Ed's tone. Maybe because it was hard for him to hide what he so wanted to overshadow. –And even if you lie to yourself, sooner or later you know that you must accept it.

– ... I'm not trying to deny it. – He approached, in an intimidating and cold way. – I don't have time for these things. Not now. I have plans ... for this city, for crime. Playing the lovers, I can schedule it for later.

– Then you did think about coming to me someday. – Oswald felt evidenced ... enough. It was something he didn't intend to admit to this weird ... specimen. This guy with his confident chocolate eyes...

– ... It doesn't matter. It's not the time. I have thing to do, take you turn and step aside.

– Then let me help you. – He said it so naturally, almost innocently. Oswald scoffed with a sideways smile.

– You? How could you help me?

– I work at the GCPD. And the faster you finish those plans, the sooner you'll allow me to be by your side, isn't it? – This time he sounded more serious about it.

– ... You don't know anything about my world. Don't you feel afraid, Edward Nygma?

The forensic's smile was excited. Defining as fear the accumulation of emotions that he had at that moment would be wrong and unwise. No ... It was as if a revolution was going on in his chest each second that went by seeing those blue eyes...

– I've finally found you. The penguin is my soul mate. What could I fear?

And with such confidence, perhaps, for the first time, Oswald wished to fell for that forensic and appreciate the colors that he had given him.

* * *

I hope you have liked it! I over-worked a little with this one, setting a fictional time line, while re-watching the show on netflix, hahahaha.

I hope to see you son~

Love you, and read you

Ivy~


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